


One Night to Remember

by CupcakeGirlA



Series: Skinsuits and Swimsuits [2]
Category: Olympics RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-27
Updated: 2011-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 05:46:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeGirlA/pseuds/CupcakeGirlA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Extra Scene from Skinsuits and Swimsuits. Nathan’s “one really good night with Michael.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night to Remember

Nathan’s not expecting to make the US Olympic team for the Beijing games. It’s as close to an impossibility as he can imagine. Olympic Trials are, after all, his first big national level long course competition. He’d done ok at Short Course World Championships in April. He’d medaled three times. But in the grand scheme of things he’s still a relative unknown. He goes into the meet with only two goals: 1) swim with the big boys to gain a little experience and 2) have some fun while he’s doing it. Making the team is therefore a complete shock. He comes in fourth in 100 Free. At first he’s disappointed. Only the top two qualifiers for each race get to go to the games and swim the event. But his disappointment doesn’t last long. His Mom and Dad are freaking out, his brother and sister and coach are screaming and jumping up and down. People are patting him on the back and congratulating him. That is when he realizes that they need four or more swimmers for 4x100 free relay. And it hits him that he’s just made the US Olympic Team. He’s going to China. He’s on the National Team! It’s a dream come true and he’s overjoyed. He gets to take part in all that cool stuff that Olympic athletes get to do. Media Day, photo-shoots, interviews. He’s even invited to the official training camp in Singapore. That’s when things get a little surreal.

 

Every day he takes a shower and gets dressed and goes to the pool, and he trains with some of the best swimmers in the world. Aaron Peirsol and Jason Lezak. Brendan Hansen and Ian Crocker. Michael Freaking Phelps. Phelps... Nathan may be in the minority; but he is a firm believer in Michael’s chances of leaving Beijing with 8 Gold medals. Because unlike the rest of the world, he’s seen him in the pool day after day. He’s seen the drive Michael has in the water. How he focuses so completely on the clock, and on bettering his time. On getting his stroke just right (even if his starts do suck), and planning for every possible contingency. Nathan’s seen it. How could he have missed it?

 

There’s an intensity about Michael that is sort of disturbing and exciting and sexy all at the same time. Not that Nathan is willing to admit that, not even to himself. He ignores the hard-on he gets when Michael is practicing his starts and does that weird arm flap thing. He convinces himself it’s not Michael that is making him react this way. It’s the last two years of near constant celibacy that is causing the problem. It’s stress. It’s excitement for the games that will start a week after their arrival in Beijing. Nathan hasn’t been with a man since that little shit back in high school outed him to his entire family against his wishes. So Nathan’s a little excitable at the best of times. Put him in a pool with the best swimmers in the world, and therefore some of the best physically fit human beings in the world, and it makes sense he’d be keyed up and ready for action.

 

In Beijing, Nathan gets assigned a two person suite, rooming with Ricky Berens from the Longhorns. Ricky’s kind of awesome. They’re a lot alike, and he’s fun to hang out with. He’s there like Nathan, to flush out one of the relay teams. So they have a lot of time on their hands. Nathan likes to think they don’t get into too much trouble, but they are young (Ricky’s 20, and Nathan is 19 ½), and in China, and largely unsupervised. Most of their fun comes after they each win their GOLD MEDAL. It will always be fully capitalized in Nathan’s head. He wins his first.

 

On the second night of the Olympic Games, he swims in the preliminary heat for the 4x100 freestyle relay. He leads off the first leg, and they set a new world record. Nathan climbs out of the warm down pool elated. Even though Cullen is chosen to swim in the final with Lezak, Phelps, and Garrett Weber-Gale, he can’t complain. With those guys on the team, he is sure there is no way he won’t be leaving the games with a medal. And with Phelps’ one gold down already he’s fairly sure this one will be too.

 

The next morning he watches from the stands with the rest of the Team USA swimmers as the relay falls behind. Nathan spends the entire race jumping up and down and screaming himself hoarse. But Jason Lezak saves the relay, coming from behind at the last possible moment to win it. He’s the reason all 7 of them go home with gold medals, why they re-break the World Record, why Nathan will forever be called an Olympic Champion. Nathan celebrates with his family for the next few days, attending events and cheering on his teammates, going to non-swimming events too, and sight-seeing a bit. Ricky wins his own Gold, swimming in the 4x200 freestyle relay, only he gets chosen to swim in the final too. Nathan is only a little ashamed to admit they might have gotten drunk and made out later that night. But it was brief, and they were both plastered. Ricky is totally normal, if hung-over, the next day. Nathan can’t decide if it’s because he doesn’t remember, or if it’s because he just doesn’t think it was that big a deal. Either way it doesn’t happen again and neither of them mentions it. Nathan is perfectly willing to forget it ever happened if Ricky is.

 

The first week of the Olympics is capped off with Michael’s 8th Gold medal of the games. The entire US Swim team celebrates the win. There are interviews all day and the Speedo party that evening followed by an impromptu party which erupts in the 5 man suite Phelps is staying in later that night. It’s bigger and nicer than Nathan’s room, but it’s also much more crowded. When Ricky drags Nathan down there, there is music pumping and someone has smuggled in a lot of alcohol. This, Nathan is sure, has put the Speedo party to shame. Girls in tank tops and short skirts dance in one big group over in the corner, guys here and there trying to infiltrate the girls club they have established, and failing. Much to the amusement of onlookers. Mike is holding court on the couch, a beer in one hand and a huge smile on his face. Peirsol sits on one end looking indulgent, and Ryan Lochte sits on the other laughing so much he’s turning red in the face.

 

Ricky drags Nathan toward the kitchen, where Nathan finally manages to shake him off. Ricky rolls his eyes, handing him a beer, and grabbing one for himself. Nathan looks at it like it’s a foreign object.

 

“I’m underage,” he says a bit lamely. The last thing he needs is to get drunk and slip up again. Ricky laughs.

 

“We’re in China. No one’s gonna tell. Besides you had no problem drinking with me the other night!” he wiggles his eyebrow as he says it and Nathan feels his face flush. He looks away, taking the beer, twisting off the cap and swallowing a big gulp instead of replying. “Mikey!” Ricky calls a big grin spreading across his face. “The man of the hour!” he proclaims. Nathan swings around to find Michael standing in the doorway. He’s leaning against the door jam, hips canted, beer bottle dangling from one hand, and such an intense look on his face as he stares at them, that it immediately has Nathan’s blood rushing. “The history maker!” Ricky says loudly, moving forward. He reaches out to grip Michael’s hand in greeting, but the taller man doesn’t react. He just keeps smirking, eyes focused solely on Nathan. Ricky frowns, turning to follow Michael’s gaze to Nathan. “Seriously?” he says sounding very disappointed. Michael’s smirk gets wider. He stops staring at Nathan, (which the younger man appreciates because it means he can, you know, breathe again), and turns to look at Ricky.

 

“Ricky,” he says softly, “go play with Ryan.” Ricky pouts.

 

“But Mike..” he says, and Nathan has to stop himself from laughing out loud, because Ricky sounds like he’s dangerously close to whining. Michael dismisses him with a wave of his hand, turning to look at Nathan again. Nathan looks back, unable to break away.

 

“Go bug Aaron or Jason then,” Michael says, bringing the beer bottle to his mouth for a long sucking gulp. Nathan finally manages to drag his eyes from the way Michael’s lips close tightly around the bottle, and how his cheeks hollow. Instead Nathan forces himself to look down at the beer in his own hand. He picks at the corner of the label, leaning back against the bare white counter top behind him. Ricky sighs audibly, huffing a little.

 

“Fine. But good luck with him. I think he’s repressed,” Ricky says, leaving without saying a word to Nathan. Nathan watches him go out the corner of his eye, unsure what that exactly was supposed to have meant. Michael waits until Ricky’s gone and they’re alone in the small kitchen to move closer.

 

“Hey, Nathan,” Mike says. Nathan shudders. There’s something about the way Michael just said his name that has a ripple going down his back, and the blood rushing to his dick. Nathan glances at him but has to look away, because suddenly Michael is right there, less than a foot away. And he’s doing that intense focused thing like he does at the pool. The thing that’s had Nathan half hard for pretty much the last three weeks, only this time he’s focusing on Nathan.

 

“Congratulations, Mike. Knew you could do it!” he says with a smile, taking another drink of his beer. Michael steps a little bit closer and Nathan takes a quick breath, pressing himself back into the counter so hard he’s half sure there will be marks on his ass tomorrow.

 

“Thanks. You were all a part of it. Couldn’t have done it without you,” it’s something he’s heard Mike say about 50 times since the relay, but it still somehow manages to sound sincere. Nathan smiles and shakes his head, still looking away from Michael’s face.

 

“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be going home with a gold medal if it weren’t for you, so no thanks necessary,” he replies. He crosses his arms between their bodies, and Michael’s so close, Nathan can feel it each time he exhales, a huff of breath and the lightest press of cotton shirt against his bare skin. Michael laughs, and it’s low and deep.

 

“I think we can both thank Jason for that particular honor,” he says. Nathan looks up nodding his agreement. Mike’s inches away, and smiling, and Nathan doesn’t know why he feels cornered but he does. Michael licks his lips, shifting a few inches closer. His chest presses to Nathan’s arms as he stretches around him to set his empty beer bottle down in the sink. He stands up straight but stays pressed close. “Hey,” Michael says softly. Nathan just looks at him, not sure quite how to react.

 

“What are you doing?” he asks softly. Michael smirks again.

 

“What do you think I’m doing?” he says in reply, hands braced on the counter, bracketing Nathan’s hips in place. Nathan laughs, suddenly nervous.

 

“I’m fairly sure I’m misinterpreting,” Nathan says with a grin. Michael shakes his head.

 

“No, I don’t think you are.” And then Nathan has Michael’s lips pressed to his, and Mike’s hands on his hips, and when he gasps, Michael’s tongue in his mouth. Nathan groans, his dick getting harder and his hands clench on his own elbows, arms still crossed between them. He tilts his head to the side and Michael presses closer, long lean body kept at bay only by the barrier of Nathan’s strong arms. His tongue presses deeper and he makes a sort of humming sound that has Nathan snapping awake. He pulls his mouth away breaking the kiss, arms unfolding to push Michael’s body away.

 

“What the hell!?” he asks, wiping at his mouth. Michael steps back, laughing.

 

“Come on, Nathan. You can’t tell me you didn’t like that. Didn’t want it,” Michael replies. He looks down, focusing his gaze on Nathan’s crotch. “Didn’t get off a little bit on it.” Nathan’s face flushes red with embarrassment and anger. He tugs his t-shirt down over the visible bulge in his khakis.

 

“Just because you’re Michael Phelps doesn’t mean you get to go around kissing whoever you want too!” Nathan says back, keeping his voice low. Michael laughs again.

 

“You think all I wanted was a kiss?” he asks. Nathan scowls, shoving Michael further away and heading for the door. Michael snags him by the arm, halting Nathan’s progress and turning him back around.

 

“Come, on Nathan! Live a little and celebrate with me!” he says, tone still light-hearted.

 

“What makes you think I’d want to celebrate with you?” Nathan asks.

 

“You celebrated with Ricky for his gold medal,” Michael says with another smirk. Nathan goes pale, his forehead creasing in agitation. He steps closer, suddenly furious.

 

“So what? That makes me some kind of slut who’ll sleep with any hot guy on the swim team?” he snaps.

 

“You think I’m hot?” Michael asks with a grin. Nathan’s mouth drops open in shock and he starts for the doorway once more only to again have Michael snag him by the arm stopping him. “Nathan, come on! I’m joking!” he says. Nathan stops trying to pull away.

 

“I don’t know what Ricky told you, but it was probably a lie. Now let me go. I’m suddenly no longer in the mood to party,” Michael lets him go, his face confused. He watches, forehead furrowed as Nathan leaves the kitchen. Nathan, for his part, walks through to the living room, stops at the couch and punches Ricky hard in the shoulder. Leaning down says: “You’re an asshole. You come back to sleep in the room tonight and I won’t be held responsible for what I do to you!” he sneers. He registers the shocked look on Ricky’s face and the equally shocked look on Garrett’s sitting beside him before he leaves the apartment, slamming the door closed behind himself.

 

 

Nathan slams the door to his dorm room too, tearing off his official credentials and throwing them onto the coffee table. He’s furious and he wants to throw something else. But anything that would make a satisfying crash isn’t his, and he’s not a big enough prick to break something of Ricky’s. Instead Nathan kicks off his shoes, storming back to his room, and throwing them into the back of his closet. He sits down on the corner of the bed and puts his head in his hands. He’s furious and embarrassed and yet also hard as a rock. He flops back onto his bed, running his hands through his hair and staring up at the ceiling. That’s when the reality of his prior situation hits him.

 

Michael Phelps had kissed him. Michael PHELPS. The guy with 14 Olympic gold medals, and more world records than Nathan’s over taxed brain could currently handle calculating…

 

“Crap!” Nathan whispers staring up at the plain white painted ceiling and shaking his head. His thoughts are interrupted by a knocking on his door. Pulling himself up off the bed, he jogs to the door, pulling it open. He promptly frowns. “What do you want?” he asks. Michael sighs. He stands in the hallway, hands stuffed in jean his pockets, and a sheepish look on his face.

 

“Can I come in?” he asks. Nathan crosses his arms, staring at him. Michael sighs again. “I promise not to try anything.” Nathan relents, rolling his eyes and going to sit on one end of the couch. He turns his back into the arm, watching Michael come in and close the door, sitting down hesitantly on the other end of the couch. “Look, Nathan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you or embarrass you, and I certainly didn’t want to piss you off.”

 

“What did you want to do then?” Nathan asks. This time it’s Michael flushing red.

 

“I thought that was kind of obvious,” he says with a short laugh. “Ricky didn’t say anything bad about you. I asked him if he thought you were gay. He said he wasn’t sure but judging by your willingness to make out with him after a few beers, that he thought there was a definite possibility. That’s all he said. I swear.” Nathan looks away.

 

“I was drunk,” Nathan says by way of explanation. Mike nods.

 

“Can’t really fault you for that. We’re all here, abstaining for weeks from more than just alcohol. Besides Ricky’s cute,” Michael says with a grin. Nathan blushes, looking away.

 

“Then why didn’t you try and sleep with him tonight? He looked willing,” he asks. Michael takes a hesitant breath and scratches at the back of his short hair.

 

“That’s the problem,” Michael says. Nathan waits for more.

 

“What you only sleep with people who don’t want to have sex with you?” Nathan asks.

 

“No, quite the opposite really. It’s just, well… Ricky has the potential to become a problem,” Mike explains. “He likes me, a lot. And he trains in Austin, and I train in B-more. And well he wants a relationship and I don’t. This has been a problem in the past.” Nathan snorts.

 

“You make a habit of this?” Nathan asks. Michael shrugged looking a bit embarrassed.

 

“Let’s just say, I have my own special way of welcoming people onto the National team,” he smiles when he says it.

 

“Oh that makes me feel so special,” Nathan says sarcastically. Michael laughs.

 

“Hey you’re a rare breed. Most people don’t say no,” Michael says. He pulls his knee up onto the couch, turning to face Nathan more directly. Now Nathan is curious.

 

“What do you mean most people don’t say no?” he asks. Michael grins again.

 

“Most don’t. Men. Women. Older than me. Younger than me. There are always exceptions of course. People who are married or in serious relationships, and I don’t go for anyone underage,” he shrugs again. “But you’d be surprised by how often people say yes.” His expression turns thoughtful. “I really do get a lot of play…” He shakes himself. “Look no one thinks you’re like the slut of the swim team. I pretty much have that covered. I was only trying to be friendly. But if you aren’t interested that’s fine. Just don’t be weird after this ok?” Michael asks. Nathan nods.

 

“So you’re, gay? Bi?” he asks.

 

“I don’t like labels, but I’d say I’m pretty open-minded. Women are beautiful wonderful creatures. They’re soft and warm, and so sexy. But men…” Mike’s face gets sort of dreamy. “There’s something about being with a man. They’re the same size and bulk as you are; all hard planes and ripped muscles. At least male swimmers are. You don’t have to be as careful with them. You can really let loose with a man in a way you just can’t with most women,” Michael explains. Nathan feels his mouth go dry, his dick hardening in his jeans again. His breathing sort of picks up and that’s what catches Michael’s attention.

 

“What about you Nathan? You gay?” he asks quietly. Nathan flushes looking away. “It’s ok if you are. I’m hardly one to judge. But you don’t have to hide it you know? We’re kind of a close knit group. No one will be weird. And no one is going to harass you if you are gay...” he trails off then, looking at Nathan in concern. Nathan takes a deep steadying breath.

 

“I’m gay,” he says hesitant. “But my family doesn’t know. They can’t know!” Nathan adds in a rush.

 

“It’s cool. Calm down. None of us are going to rat you out to your parents!” Michael says, nodding in reassurance.

 

“I just… I don’t know who I can trust with this,” Nathan says hesitantly. Michael shrugs.

 

“I don’t think most of the swimmers would rat you out. We understand about image, and being role models, and not doing something that can tarnish your reputation. And while we both know there is nothing wrong with liking guys instead of girls, or the other way around, we’re also smart enough to realize not everyone shares that point of view. I think you need to loosen up a little.”

 

“Loosen up a little?” Nathan repeats, eyebrow rising in question. Michael laughs.

 

“You’re still hard as a rock. I can tell from here. How long has it been since you let yourself get laid?” Michael asks. Nathan blinks at him.

 

“A while,” he says softly, readjusting his legs and tugging at the hem of his shirt down over his crotch.

 

“How long is a while?” Michael asks, leaning forward and sliding toward the middle of the couch. He doesn’t touch Nathan, but he moves closer, sitting up and leaning over the younger man, with one hand braced on the back of the couch. Nathan swallows loudly.

 

“A long while,” Nathan replies, looking up to meet Michael’s eyes. Mike grins at him.

 

“I can totally help you out with a little relief, but I promised when you let me in that I wouldn’t try anything. So if you want me to give you a night to remember, I’m going to need you to make the first move,” he whispers. Nathan lets out a little whimper, closing his eyes. But he takes a deep breath and when he opens his eyes again, there’s a false confidence in them that has Mike smiling.

 

“Well you did just win a record number of Gold medals, making history, and winning 1 million dollars in the process. I think you deserve a little celebration tonight,” Nathan says. Mike laughs, leaning closer. Nathan grins, pushing up to press his mouth to Michael’s, his hands sliding around Mike’s waist and tugging him down. He groans at the press of Mike’s body all along the length of his own, pressing hot and hard in all the right places.

 

Michael opens his mouth, sliding one hand into Nathan’s thick dark hair, and letting the other crawl under the hem of Nathan’s t-shirt to tug at his belt. Nathan pulls him closer, pressing his hips up into Michael’s questing hand. Michael breaks the kiss.

 

“What,” he pants, “what do you like to do?” he asks, kissing down Nathan’s chin to lick across his Adam’s Apple. Nathan swallows, gasping, and letting his hands wiggle up under Michael’s t-shirt.

 

“Anything. Everything,” Nathan replies, pulling Michael’s mouth back up to his own. He sucks at Mike’s tongue for a few seconds before leaning back. “But there’s one thing I’m really really dying for,” he explains. Michael nods, getting his hand inside of Nathan’s underwear to wrap around Nathan’s dick. “Fuck me,” Nathan says suddenly. His hips jerk up into Michael’s grip. Michael nods.

 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Michael says, letting go of Nathan’s dick and standing up out of his lap. “Come on!” he says, taking Nathan’s hand and tugging him up off the couch. Nathan lets himself be dragged through the small apartment to Nathan’s undersized bedroom.

 

They undress each other between kisses and gropes, making a pile of clothing on the floor before sliding into the bed. Nathan sits up, pulling out of Michael’s grip to stare down at his body spread out under him. It’s the first time he’s been able to really look and enjoy it, without worrying about getting hard or turning red. So he decides to enjoy it. Michael’s body is in peak physical condition. He’s all sculpted muscle, and sharp angles. He’s not soft pretty much anywhere on his body, not even his ass. Nathan takes a few minutes to look, and to feel. His hands travel across Michael’s chest and abs, arms and thighs. He reaches out and grips Mike’s erection in one tight hand, enjoying the heat and the size of it. It’s thick and long, and it makes his mouth water. But he doesn’t have the patience for that right this minute, maybe in round two…

 

“Do you have a condom?” he asks. Mike nods, chest flushed with arousal. He stretches, leaning over the side of the bed, and Nathan takes in the rear view. Long strong back, small but beautifully firm ass. Nathan is strongly tempted to lick Mike’s Speedo induced tan lines, but he stops himself. Mike’s back a half a minute later sitting up with three or four condoms and a tube of lube out of his jeans. “I knew you’d planned this!” Nathan laughs. Mike smirks.

 

“I never pretended like I hadn’t. Besides if you had said no, I probably could have found someone else,” Mike jokes. Nathan scoffs.

 

“Again... You make me feel so special!” he says sarcastically before breaking out into laughter. Mike smirks.

 

“If it makes you feel any better I’ve had my sights set on you since Trials. You finally made the National team, and you’re fucking hot. It was so hard to wait until after I was done swimming. I might have risked it after you had swum your race but Bob’s had me on lockdown,” Mike explains. Nathan shrugs.

 

“That does make me feel a bit better, yes,” Nathan says with a grin.

 

Michael takes his time on preparation. He slicks his fingers and starts stretching Nathan’s ass. One finger, two fingers. By the time he gets to three fingers, Nathan’s harder than he’s been in what feels like years. He rocks on his hands and knees, pressing back into Michael’s hand and groaning with each poke to his prostate. He groans, sweat sliding down his back and dripping off his nose.

 

“Michael... please!” he begs, hands twisting in his cheap dorm issued sheets. Michael chuckles behind him, pulling his fingers free. Nathan reaches down to grip his erection. He’s so close to coming! But he stops himself from squeezing. He waits impatiently as Michael opens a condom and rolls it on.

 

The first long push of Michael’s dick inside is like heaven. Nathan groans, low and long, ass pushing back against Mike’s hips. It’s been way too long since he felt this. Since he’d let himself have this. When Michael’s hips press to his ass, Nathan lets himself breathe. It burns, but it feels so good and Nathan doesn’t care if they never leave this bed as long as he gets to have this as often as he wants it, as hard as he wants it. He doesn’t realize he’s talking out loud until Michael chuckles, letting his teeth graze Nathan’s shoulder blade.

 

“Just tell me how hard you want it, Nathan. I’ll do my very best to give it to you!” he growls. He pulls his hips back and presses back in hard and fast. Nathan rocks on his hands and knees with the force of the thrust, and lets out a shout at the pleasure that zings through his body. Michael repeats the move, replicating it near exactly, but pressing in harder. Nathan cries out again, louder. Michael’s hands grip his hips tighter, tugging him back into the next thrust.

 

Nathan keeps crying out, keeps rocking back into Michael’s thrusts. He can’t believe this is happening. He can’t believe that Michael Phelps, of all people, is doing this to him. It’s so good, and he’s mindless with the pleasure Mike’s causing. It’s been so long since he had this, and it has never ever been this amazing. It’s never been this hard and fast and good. His breathing speeds up; his breaths coming in quick short pants for air.

 

Michael keeps moving, hitting Nathan’s prostate just perfectly inside of him until Nathan’s on the brink of coming. When Nathan, reserved-kind-of-quiet-rarely-curses-Nathan, starts to say: “Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh God, Fuck me!” repeatedly Michael catches on pretty quickly. He keeps his pace steady, but frees one hand to reach around Nathan’s front and grip his erection. Nathan bucks in his arms, calling out louder than before and reaching down to tighten Michael’s grip and move it just the way he likes it.

 

It only takes a few tight pulls before Nathan tenses all over, tightening around Michael’s erection, and crying out wordlessly. He orgasms all over their quickly moving hands. And groaning as if pained lets himself collapse against the bed. Mike follows him down, slowing his pace to fuck him through the aftershocks. Nathan whines, letting go of his dick and pulling Mike’s hand away too. Michael grins at the back of Nathan’s head, and slides his hand out from under Nathan’s body, planting it on the mattress by his hip and using his other hand to pull Nathan’s left leg out and to the side. Settling further between Nathan’s spread thighs he continues his thrusts, pressing deep with each thrust and pulling slowly out again.

 

Nathan buries his face in the sheet. He fights for a several minutes to regain his breath after coming, and grunts with distant pleasure with every forward surge of Michael’s hips. “It’s like the tide, it just keeps coming,” he thinks to himself once his brain is functioning again, “or a steady stroke in the pool. Fluid and calculated. Never rushed or hesitant.” He grits his teeth, flexing his hips back up into Michael’s and groans in renewed pleasure at the change in angle. Michael chuckles, leaning his head forward to press his sweaty forehead to the center of Nathan’s back. He keeps up the pace until Nathan’s hard again, and wiggling against him for more friction. That’s when Michael pulls back, pressing up onto his knees again. He pulls Nathan with him, and once the younger man is holding himself up, Michael starts to thrust in earnest. These are different though, more erratic. A little hitch thrown in at the very end of each press that has Nathan biting his own fist in reaction. They’re wilder, less controlled. And Nathan’s coming a second time so suddenly and without warning that he doesn’t even realize Michael has come too, until he’s pulling free and collapsing beside him on the mattress.

 

They lay side-by-side on the too small dorm room bed, both panting for air, sweat drying on their skin. Nathan doesn’t know what to say, how to break the silence. So Michael does it for him.

 

“So? Feel any better?” he asks, pushing up to rest his head in his hand, elbow pressed into the mattress.

 

“Much. Thank you!” Nathan says laughing a little. He thinks it might be an endorphin rush, but he suddenly feels giddy, almost giggly, and like he could run a full marathon and not be tired. “I don’t know how I’ve lasted so long without that!” Nathan says shaking his head.

 

“You never told me how long…” Michael prompts, trailing off. Nathan grimaces.

 

“Almost two years,” he says sheepishly. Michael’s mouth drops open.

 

“Dayum!” he crows. Nathan flushes red, covering his face with both hands.

 

“I know!” he says. He sighs. “I’ve been with a few girls. But there’s always something missing..” Nathan leaves the sentence hanging. “Thanks, Michael. I really needed this.”

 

“Yeah, well next time don’t wait two fucking years before letting yourself get fucked!” Michael says. Nathan shrugs.

 

“Who knows how long it will be until next time. I have to find someone I can trust. I get the feeling you’re kind of a onetime deal.” Michael laughs.

 

“Generally, yes. One night seems to be the norm in these cases. But hey, the night isn’t over yet,” he wiggles his eyebrows and Nathan laughs in shock.

 

“I think it might take me a little while to recover after the last two!” he says. Michael stretches back out.

 

“That’s ok. I’ll wait!” he says smiling widely. Nathan groans, staring up at the ceiling.

 

“I have got to find a boyfriend,” he says. “Any of the swimmers at Berkeley gay? You had any of them?” he asks. Mike grins.

 

“You’re asking me?” he asks. Nathan nods. “Well that would be telling wouldn’t it? How’d you like it if I told everyone we’d slept together?” Mike asks. Nathan sort of freezes against him. Michael nods. “See? I can’t tell you that! Besides it’s part of the fun, trying to figure it out for yourself. But I will tell you this: Swimmers have high libidos. We like sex and we like it often. And we’re a pretty open-minded bunch. I don’t think you have to worry about most of the swimmers you come across unless they’re bible thumping Jesus freaks. And honestly some of them are the biggest gay guys in the pool! Trust me. I know from experience. Just give it a shot, Nathan.” Nathan nods. It sounds nice, having regular sex again. Not having to hide what he is, and who he likes. Michael smiles again. “But for tonight you’ve got it easy. Guaranteed sex until dawn if you can keep up. What would you like to do next?” he grins a bit lasciviously. Nathan grins back, putting thoughts of boyfriends and Berkeley out of his head for the rest of the night.

 

“Well I haven’t fucked a guy in a while?” he says it like a question. Mike grins at him, but there’s something false behind it.

  
“Sorry, Buddy. That’s the one thing I don’t do,” he says in answer. “I’ll rim you, finger you, fuck you, and suck you. But you can’t shove anything up my ass. It’s a personal issue,” Michael says matter-of-factly. Nathan nods.

 

“Sounds like a fair deal. Now the question is what to ask for next,” he grins as he says it, showing even white rows of teeth, before leaning forward to kiss Michael silly.

 

Michael stays all night. And when he leaves just before dawn, they’re both exhausted and barely capable of walking properly. Michael pauses at the door to Nathan’s room, turning back to look at Nathan, stretched out like a starfish across the bed, and whimpering a little with each breath.

 

“You,” Michael says. He pauses and takes a deep breath. “You, I might have to make an exception for,” he leaves the room with the sound of Nathan’s laughter ringing in his ears.

 

Michael gets back to the suite, and it’s a disaster area. There are plates and empty bottles scattered on every available surface and a suspicious looking stain on the rug near the TV. They’re going to be in so much trouble, but he can’t bring himself to care. At least no one appears to be passed out in the living room or kitchen areas.

 

Michael heads for the bathroom, which is also, thankfully, drunk person free. He takes a long shower, washing away beer, and cum, and Nathan from his body. He’s tired, and he has to be up in approximately 2 hours to do a full day of interviews. At least he can explain the bags under his eyes and lack of energy away as exhaustion from the last 8 days of competition and years of preparation. He climbs out of the shower feeling clean, but heavy with the need to sleep. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he heads for the room he shares with Ryan.

 

The room is dark, the curtains drawn shut against the early morning light. It takes a minute for Michael’s eyes to adjust. He goes to the dresser, being quiet as he finds a pair of clean shorts to pull on. He tosses his towel in the corner and climbs into his thankfully empty bed. Glancing to the other bed, he expects to see Ryan asleep, possibly alone, possibly with company. Instead he finds Ryan wide awake and watching him.

 

“Hey, Doggy,” he says, pulling the light blanket up and relaxing back against his pillows. Ryan smirks at him.

 

“Who was it this time? Don’t tell me you nailed, Adrian!? Ricky told me he’s some kind of repressed self-hating virgin!” Ryan says. Michael grins a little stiffly.

 

“He’s not a repressed self-hating virgin,” he defends. Ryan crows with laughter.

 

“You did! With Nathan!?” he asks, sitting up. “I want details! I know you have rules, you little swimmer slut, but give me the juicy bits. You know I won’t tell tales!” Michael shakes his head.

 

“I don’t fuck and tell, you know that Ryan!” Michael replies. He turns onto his side to face Ryan, whose face is shining with energy.

 

“Oh come on!” Ryan whines. “Just the basics! Did you fuck him? Or did he fuck you? How big is his dick? He has one of those long skinny bodies. I bet his dick matches, doesn’t it? What about his stamina? Did he properly satisfy the living Swim God among us?” Ryan asks. Michael rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

 

“Come on, Ryan. I don’t spread those type of details. Would you want everyone to know what we did together?” he asks, turning onto his back to stare up at the ceiling and to avoid looking at Ryan any longer.

 

“Of course I would! I’m fucking awesome! No one fucks as good as I do! I’d love for you to tell everyone how great I am in the sack. How huge my dick his. How long I last. I bet your ass hasn’t been fucked like that in years!” Ryan says with a grin, with no idea just how right he is. Michael’s smile freezes, but he quickly regains his composure. The last thing he wants Ryan to know is the truth, so that’s exactly what he tells him.

 

“Oh, no, of course not! Who could possibly satisfy me after Ryan Lochte has had his wicked way with me?” Michael asks sarcastically. Ryan laughs in response, clapping his hands in glee.

 

“Get some sleep, man. You look half-dead. And I better not get blamed for those huge ass bags under your eyes in the morning!” Ryan turns over then, putting his back to Michael and within a few minutes he’s asleep once more.

 

Michael stares up at the ceiling for a while longer, before finally going to sleep too.

 

 

The End


End file.
